Gloved Heart
by Limitbreaker
Summary: At first Draco only wanted to look, then he yearned for a touch, and suddenly it wasn't about the dragons anymore. Slash, Charlie/Draco


Draco's heartbeat was treacherously loud. He was sure that it was audibly in the silence of the Forbidden Forest. But the closer he got to his destination, the less he worried about any noises.

The dragons growled like rolling thunder, stamping so powerfully in their cage that the ground vibrated. Draco could see their flames illuminating the thick darkness of the forest even before he pulled the branches apart.

His heart was now running a marathon in his chest. Not only that he was all alone in the Forbidden Forest, he was merely fifteen feet away from a real dragon. It was frightening and magnificent at the same time. Draco would never search danger on his own, but when he had heard Potter and Granger whispering about dragons he had been unable to resist. And he was just taking a quick look…

Draco looked from the right to the left. He counted around twenty people wandering around on the small clearing, all of them clothed in shielding dragon leather clothes – he had always wondered if wearing a dead dragon was actually a good idea right in front of a living one. But he did not care for the people, not when he had four beautiful dragons to admire. Their eyes glowed even brighter than their flames and Draco shivered reverently when a pair seemed to focus on him, even if just for a brief moment before the dragon continued to trail its gaze along the edge of the forest, almost protectively.

Draco noticed the huge rocklike eggs and had to smile at the memory of that baby dragon he saw back in his first year. If his father knew about this obsession with dragons, Draco could immediately move in with Hagrid and that was something he definitely did not dream about. He had once tried to ask his father if they could visit a dragon reserve, but Lucius had only laughed and still owed Draco an answer – and ever since then his stuffed dragon had simply vanished. Draco suspected precautionary measures of his father.

This was probably his only chance to ever get close to a dragon.

Draco made a hesitant step forward. The dragon keepers were busy with the biggest dragon, which also looked extremely dangerous. Draco would not want to come close to that one, but he liked that silvery blue dragon that slept with its tail curled around its eggs. It looked peaceful, how it puffed out grey smoke flaked with orange sparks from time to time… Draco smiled.

Cautiously, he moved closer and tried not to make any noises, avoiding the few dry branches that had not yet been burned by the dragons. Just one closer look…

"Hello there." Arms grabbed him from behind, easily lifting him off the ground and pulling him backwards. Draco struggled, but the grip only tightened until he could barely breathe. "Stop struggling for your own safety."

"Let me go," Draco hissed but that wish was only granted after they had reached his former hiding place. Angrily, Draco whirled around and tried to scowl forcefully at the man, who had shattered his dream to pieces. But confronted with such warm brown eyes it was surprisingly hard…

Draco looked into a kind, tanned face – no, were those freckles? And red hair. Draco knew exactly which of those countless Weasleys this one was.

"You shouldn't be out here," Charlie Weasley said admonishingly, but still smiled. "It's too late and dangerous. You're the third student I catch out here."

"I just wanted to look," Draco snapped at him.

"Yeah, I could guess that you weren't here to snog with yourself. Come…" Charlie took advantage of Draco's confusion about these words and put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him around. He pulled Draco away from the dragons.

"Don't touch me!" Draco jerked away and hastily moved back to pull the branches apart again, gazing longingly at the dragons. He heard Charlie sigh, quite obviously annoyed, but he just wanted to stay here a bit longer and look.

"Listen, they can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet. You're not safe here." Charlie stepped beside him. "They might look peaceful right now, but they are dangerous. Do you want to die?"

Draco decided not to talk to a filthy Weasley. But with that man right by his side he could not focus on the dragons.

"You're the Malfoy boy, aren't you?" A gloved hand touched his cheek and forced Draco to turn his head. "Why don't you ask your Daddy to take you to the reserve next summer? They show you some cute little baby dragons and –"

"I don't want baby dragons. I want the big ones," Draco said and when Charlie kept smiling, anger flared up inside him. "What's wrong about looking? I won't tell anyone." He lowered his chin and for the first time realised the true magnitude of Charlie's hand. His cheek and jaw were easily cupped by his palm and the fingertips were still able to stroke over his throat. "My father would never take me to the reserve. This is my only chance… _before_ I come of age."

There was the spark of pity in Charlie's eyes Draco had hoped for. Charlie glanced to the dragons, then back to Draco. He sighed and pulled his hand away.

"Never tell anyone about this," he said while taking his gloves off. Draco frowned and when Charlie moved to shrug his waistcoat off he gulped hard. What exactly was it Charlie wanted him to never tell anyone?

His gaze travelled over the muscular arms, so full of freckles that the skin there seemed tanned as well, except for the parts where burns had scarred Charlie's flesh. Draco was strangely enough not disgusted by the sight and he felt his mouth slowly becoming dry the longer he stared at the muscles flexing under Charlie's shirt.

Draco found himself not being averse to the idea of _paying_ for a longer stay…

"Pull this over. For protection." Charlie helped Draco slipping into the waistcoat and then pulled the dragon hide gloves over Draco's fingers, and again Draco noticed how small his hands were compared to Charlie's.

"You have huge hands," Draco said in a quiet voice while he examined the leather draping his hands.

Charlie chuckled. "More room for blisters." He reached out his bare hand and Draco could not resist touching it. Both his hands moved over the certainly rough skin, but with the gloves he could not feel anything. Well, he could feel Charlie's eyes on him, their warmth like a prickling heat that spread over his skin when he looked up into them. Draco shivered and released Charlie's hand.

"Quite deterrent, isn't it?" Charlie asked, but Draco shook his head and turned around before he gave Charlie the satisfaction of seeing him blush. "Okay, so you want to keep pretending that you're not afraid." Charlie put his arm around Draco's shoulder and pulled the branches apart. "Then stay close to me."

Draco bit his lower lip, excited. He had known it. Charlie would show him the dragons.

"The Swedish Short-Snout is asleep. If we're very quiet we can get close enough to touch her." Charlie squeezed his shoulder. His hand was warm, even through the fabric of Draco's robe, and the movements of his fingers left a prickling sensation that Draco considered quite deterrent, but not uncomfortable enough to pull away. And Charlie had told him that he should stay close if he wanted to see the dragon – touch it, maybe.

Draco grabbed a handful of Charlie's shirt at the small of his back, but through the dragon hide gloves he could not feel the warmth. When they reached the Swedish Short-Snout Draco's eyes were trained on Charlie Weasley. With every step the heat had increased and small drops of sweat had appeared on Charlie's forehead, running across a copper-coloured eyebrow over his temple. Draco wetted his lips and pressed them to a thin line, otherwise he feared he would lick those tempting drops away any second. And to make it even harder to resist Charlie leant down to him.

"The scales are more beautiful in the daylight; they appear to be glittering then," he whispered, his breath tickling over Draco's earlobe. "Now they seem to be completely blue, don't you think so?"

Draco was too busy staring at Charlie to care for highlights on dragon scales. When Charlie looked at him, he immediately nodded to show that he was very interested. And he should be interested in the dragon. Draco turned to the Swedish Short-Snout. The huge reptile slumbered in peace. The silvery-blue scaled skin truly appeared darker without the sunlight, but the dark blue still glinted magnificently. A beautiful creature that truly deserved Draco Malfoy's attention.

"You can touch it." Charlie took Draco's hand and placed it on the scales.

Draco did not know what felt better: the hard shell or Charlie's hand. And he wished he could take off the gloves to find this out.

There was one thing he could feel. The dragon breathed and its scales rippled gracefully. Draco followed the movements with his fingers, then turned his head and found Charlie watching him.

"I want to take off the gloves," Draco said quietly.

Charlie seemed unsure and opened his mouth to surely reject Draco as the dragon suddenly moved. A jet of flame escaped its snout. Charlie grabbed Draco's arm and shoved him out of the way. Draco flashed one last look over his shoulder to the slowly awakening dragon while Charlie dragged him back behind the branches.

Longing, despair and the reality in which he was not allowed to touch dragons clashed onto him when he was forcefully slammed against a tree. Flames followed them closely. Charlie pressed him tightly against the trunk and shielded him with his body, but Draco was still able to feel the heat – and the heat of Charlie's body.

Draco closed his eyes, scarlet-black filled his view and the pleasant warmth of Charlie's body his arms. He nestled his face against that broad chest, holding tightly to Charlie, and gradually the heat from the flames vanished. Charlie's heat stayed, and somehow this felt even more dangerous than the flames of a dragon.

"It's over," Charlie's voice told him. "No need to be afraid anymore."

"I'm not afraid," Draco said, raising his head again. There was the unpleasant smell of burned hair and Draco had to reach up to extinguish the sparks glowing in Charlie's hair. "We don't want to take flaming red literally, right?"

Charlie smiled at the joke and that he did not look uncomfortable was invitation enough for Draco to keep his hand buried in the red strands. He had been glad about the gloves just a moment before, but now he wanted to feel Charlie's hair. It seemed thick and soft, but maybe it was actually strawy; he would never find out while wearing those gloves.

"Can I take the gloves off now?" Draco's question was only a whisper, but even his thin voice sufficed to break the comfortable silence between them.

Charlie's expression changed into something Draco could not quite identify; his smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed like in disgust, but he did not pull away, instead he lifted his hand to touch Draco's cheek.

Draco's eyes fluttered close. No gloves between them, just Charlie's hand on his cheek, skin on skin. The blisters were noticeable rough, but the scratchy sensation was quite nice. Draco leant into the touch.

"Better not," Charlie said and Draco opened his eyes in puzzlement.

"They're yours." Draco withdrew his hand and reached for the waistcoat. "You should get everything back."

Charlie's eyes darted down. He gulped audibly, and Draco remembered reacting similarly to Charlie shrugging off the waistcoat before. Maybe their thoughts were not that different either.

To test that, Draco made a soft noise, drawing Charlie's attention to his lips, which he parted slightly. The waistcoat fell from his shoulders, but Charlie caught it before it could land on the ground. He had enviable reflexes, truly worth those of a Seeker-legend.

"Thank you, but…" Charlie enclosed Draco's wrist and kept him from taking the gloves off. "Keep them. They're a present."

Draco had never hated a gift this much. He wanted to touch Charlie, wanted to feel the rough skin and search for the soft spots.

"They're too big," Draco replied.

"You'll grow into them." Charlie smiled, on the edge between apologetic and sad.

He wanted this, and Draco had never wanted anything more than closing the distance to this perfectly shaped mouth. Tonight, he had conquered his fear of the Forbidden Forest and his father to finally come close to dragons. That final inch between Charlie and him should be no challenge.

Grabbing Charlie's neck with his free hand, Draco leant up and pressed their mouths together. A muffled sound of protest vibrated against his lips, but Charlie did not really try to push him away. He gave into the kiss and even took control over it. Kissing like this was like reaching a whole new level for Draco. Charlie's tongue slid into his mouth and he did not know how to handle the slick muscle rubbing sensuously against his tongue.

These gloves seemed to be too big for him as well.

Charlie seemed to sense that, too. Again, he tried to push Draco away, but his mouth was still on Draco's and apparently moved on his own, on top of that Draco made no attempt to break the best kiss of his life.

It needed a particularly hard shove of Charlie to pull them apart. Panting breathlessly, they stared at each other. Charlie's face was so full of guilt that Draco shifted his gaze away. He cleared his throat, regained his ability to speak and broke the silence with his heart aching in a way he never knew before. Draco pointed at the gloves.

"Thanks for letting me try them on," he said with a smirk, successfully covering the pain he felt at having to let Charlie go.

Charlie smiled this heart-warming smile. "You're welcome," he answered, but when Draco turned to leave he held him back, "Hey… when you're of age, there's a dragon reserve waiting for you to visit."

Draco blushed deeply, but kept smirking. "Tell that dragon reserve that I can't wait."


End file.
